


Local Secrets

by CleverDame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-28 05:18:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19387300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverDame/pseuds/CleverDame
Summary: You know him as Sam Campbell, occasional hookup and mysterious outsider.   When he ends up in your bed you both end up confessing a thing or two.





	1. One

“How’d you end up here?” Sam asks nonchalantly, dropping his used condom into the trash under the bedside table.

“This is just where…life spit me out I guess. I ran away.” You confess, watching this handsome man digest your admission.

“From what?” He’s only a little sweaty. You both came faster than expected and you’re hoping that means he’ll be up for round two.

“LIfe. A guy. Everything.” You snort as his eyes narrow, studying you.

This is the third time in six months that he’s ended up in your bed. You sling beers at the only bar in Lebanon and the Campbell brothers tip well.

He’s as much of a mystery as you are, it’s why this works. Neither of you wants to share much so there’s normally not many questions. Until tonight that is. Sam’s curiosity is sparked, growing bold as you lie in this king size bed that suddenly seems too small.

“What are you and Dean doing here? The locals think you’ve got some kind of cult going on out in the woods.”

Sam laughs at that. A big, bright laugh that pulls his lips back over white teeth. “Not a cult.” He chuckles. “Just old family shit. We kinda inherited the place.”

“Sounds like I’m not the only one with a few skeletons in my closet.”

“You have no idea.” He snorts, slicking his hair back away from his face.

“I tell a lot of lies.” You blurt out, eyes growing big. Sam just smirks, shrugging slightly. “I mean when you’re trying to be someone else I think you have to. It’s like, not that I’m a compulsive liar. I’m trying to-”

“Survive.” Sam finishes. “I get it.”

You can’t shake the feeling that something about him is familiar, like a song you can’t quite remember the words to. Sam’s the tune that gets stuck in your head for days at a time.

“Everyone here thinks I’m just a girl from South Dakota who was passing through and ended up staying, but really, I’m hiding.”

“Tell me something.” He hones in, grinning happily and propping himself up on an elbow.

“What kind of something?” Pulling the sheet over your chest, you relax into the pillows and look up at him.

“Something about you. Something true.” His eyes flit down to your mouth, watching your lips while you think.

“Something true, huh? Well, my real name isn’t Maeve.”

“Seriously?” His eyebrows up go.

“Yeah, it’s Y/N.”

“I like that better. It fits you.” He looked down at his hand, you can practically see his brain working. “My last name isn’t Campbell.”

“Well,” you reach up, letting a finger trail along the stubble on his jaw. “I guess that makes us even. Just a couple of strangers with a lot of secrets.”

“Tell me something else.” He reaches over placing a hand on your thigh.

“Umm,” you pause. “It’s my birthday today.”

“Really?” He confirms, squeezing your leg. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. It hasn’t been bad. I brought home a handsome guy. Had an orgasm…”

“Oh,” Sam’s already in motion, crawling on top of you as he pulls the sheet away from your breasts. “We can do better. I mean, it’s your birthday. I can make you cum harder than that.”

You blush at his words, happily kissing him back as he swoops down to capture your lips.

He couldn’t care less about lies and half-truths. He likes you. He’s liked you since you poured him that first beer and looked away, nervous and grinning, when he tipped a twenty.   
  
He kisses you hard, sliding his body over yours, slipping in between two soft thighs. He sucks on your tongue and licks along the line of your jaw, breathing hot against your throat. Pinning you down with all his weight he just lies on top, pressing you between his warm chest and wet sheets. Nipping at the edge of your ear he whispers words that catch and curl in your brain like smoke. Words like _gonna fuck you_ and _cum so hard_ and _so fuckin’ hot_.   
  
He’s got his hand between your legs, pushing long fingers gently along the wet slick of your sex, not quite inside as he bites hard at your throat. Your back aches against the mattress, rocking your hips up against his hand. You’ve got one hand behind your head pressed against the headboard, the other grasping at the meat of his bicep to hold him close.   
  
Sparks shiver under your skin, streaking through your belly, coiled heat rising slow beneath Sam’s heavy frame. When he slides two thick fingers inside you, thumb circling hard over your clit making you snap your head back against the pillow and beg for more.

  
Sam chuckles as he pulls his finger from your cunt, licking his way across your pleading mouth with a heated whisper. “Sound so good when you beg like that. Gonna beg me to eat you, too? Spread those pretty thighs for my tongue?”  
  
You can’t think, can’t breathe, aren’t even sure there’s enough oxygen in the room - maybe not even the world as you teeter on the edge, his voice grating in your ear with that rough tease. Saying things that shoot down to your clit in a straight line, making it twitch and throb, and you feel new wetness surge, soaking your thighs  
  
“Yes. Please!” You beg again, groping for him almost blindly. Sam pushes you down into the mattress, the sheer weight of him drowning you in the bed until you’re not sure you’re gonna survive.   
  
He lazes between your legs, licking long and lazy up the center of your pussy, chasing shudders with his tongue until they spread like ripples over water, spilling down your thighs. You shudder and thrust against the stubble of his jaw, the softness of his mouth, tongue spearing you deep inside.  
  
“Good girl.” He mumbles against your cunt.   
  
And God, it’s just this side of sin the way he growls low, causing heat that surges from your ears to your belly straight down to your cunt.  
  
“So good,” he whispers against sticky skin, tongue curling to lap at your clit, and your muscles clench as a second orgasm rips through you like a bolt of sudden lightning.   
  
He keeps his mouth on you until you’re coming down, and then he slides up your body, hand angling roughly along your jaw, mouth hot and open and spiced with the taste of yourself. Your muscles are still twitching with aftershocks as he slides inside you, hard and full - God, you’re so full.

Pulling at your legs, Sam pins them up, circling and thrusting his hips until he’s driving so deep you feel like you can barely breathe, the head of his cock bumping against the sweet spot inside with relentless rhythm. Digging his thumbs into your hips he holds you still, staring down at you with eyes that burn right past all those lies.   
  
“Yeah, take it. So fuckin’ good. God, feel so good wrapped around my cock.” The words fall from his lips like fire, and he rocks his hips back, snaps them forward with a twist that makes you gasp, fingers sinking into your hips so hard that tomorrow you’ll have light bruises, but right now, it feels fucking fantastic, and oh, if he does that again, you’re going to -  
  
The world explodes again, and he leans down to lick every last whimper from your mouth. “Happy birthday.”

–

“Do I call you Y/N?” He asks standing in the early morning light buttoning his shirt.

“When we’re alone.” You roll onto your stomach, twisting in the sheets as he sits on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on.

“When can we be alone again?” He turns his head to the side, not really looking at you but awaiting your answer.

“That’s up to you.” You give the tail of his flannel a tug. “I’m not the one who disappears for weeks at a time.”

“True.” When he stands up he looks taller than usual, watching you laid out below. He’s hesitating, he doesn’t want to leave and your heart swells at the thought.

“How ‘bout _you_ tell me something true before you go.”

He laughs softly, pulling on his jacket, reaching down to cup your jaw. “My last name is Winchester.”

“I like it. _Sam Winchester._ That’s a good name.”

“I gotta go. We got a thing-”

“Go.” You wave him off, as his hand trails down your face. “See you later Sam Winchester.”

“See you soon, Y/N.”


	2. Two

“Can I stay the night?”

Sam’s question takes you off guard. He’s still in bed, hips lifting off the mattress as he pulls on his underwear.

“Of course, I like waking up next to you.” You smile, watching him in the mirror above your dresser. “Don’t get dressed on my account.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Fluffing a pillow he lies back with an arm behind his head. “But I can’t sleep naked.”

“Why?” You inquire, standing nude in the middle of the room. You can’t remember why you got up and the sight of him is calling you back under the covers.

“Primordial instincts.” He looks tired, more exhausted than normal. Not that it stopped him from giving it to you good, fucking you into the mattress until you thought you’d come apart at the seams. “I can’t relax unless I feel like I’m prepared for…emergencies. What if there’s a fire or something?”

“Ahuh.” You nod. There’s a lot more to Sam than meets the eye; you’re not sure about the details but you know there’s a host of secrets hiding under the surface. “Well, if there’s a fire you’ll have time to stop and help me find my clothes because I can’t sleep with anything on. Makes me feel claustrophobic.”

Remembering why you got up in the first place, you retrieve a phone charger from your purse and crawl back into bed beside him.

Despite your semi-frequent hookups, the fact is that Sam remains a virtual stranger. But he doesn’t _feel_ like one, it feels like you’ve always known him. You slide under the sheets and he reaches out, pulling you to him until you’re tucked under his arm, nestled against his side with your head on his chest.

One of the best things about Sam is his versatility. He always fucks like it’s his last night on earth, everything is dirty and hard, the space between the slap of your bodies filled with a constant string of filth. He grits into your ear about how tight your pussy is and how good you feel around his cock.

But there’s another Sam that’s just as appealing. This soft, gentle guy who likes to hold you in his arms until you fall asleep. The man who strokes your hair and asks questions he actually wants the answers to.

“You seem tired.” You run your fingers through his chest hair, press your cheek over his tattoo.

“It’s been a rough coupla weeks. Fuck, it’s been a rough decade.” He snorts, his long fingers combing through your hair to rub your scalp.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” He kisses your hairline. “I wanna escape my life, just for tonight. Tell me about you, what is the life of Y/N like?”

“Boring. Mind numbing.” You settle in, wrapping your arm around his torso, breasts crushed against the warm skin over his ribs. “I’m not a rocket scientist but even I need a little intellectual stimulation from time to time. The bar is just drunks and other people’s problems.”

“Dean calls it whiskey psychiatry.”

“He’s not wrong. People are so predictable. It’s always a variation on the same theme. Someone let someone else down. Someone cheated. Someone died. I don’t even need to know the details to respond. I’m on autopilot. I’m living my life on cruise control.”

“Why don’t you quit?” His fingers trail up your arm looped over him. “Get a job somewhere else.”

“I umm-” you don’t normally talk about this part of your life. “I’m working under the table. Trying to stay off the radar. I burned my old social security card.”

“That’s an easy fix.” You feel him shrug. “I can help, get you new IDs, even a credit card if you want.”

“Seriously?” You lift your head to look at him. “Is that what you do? Black market, silk road type shit?”

“Not exactly.” He scrunches his nose, the hand in your hair coaxing you to lay back down. “Just part of it.”

“And what is that exactly, what do you and Dean _do_?” He stiffens for a moment, pausing to sigh.

“We fix problems. The kind of problems nobody else can handle.”

“That sounds..dangerous.”

“It can be. But we’re good at what we do. It’s not so bad.”

“I worry about you…” You confess, fingers trailing over the black and blue bruise over his ribcage. He always has some kind of injury. Whatever he and his brother are up to, it’s physical. “I wonder how you get hurt like this.”

“Just a bar fight.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who gets into bar fights.”

“Yeah, well…that’s the explanation I’m going with.”

“Fair enough.” His fingers are trailing up and down your spine, occasionally dropping lower, skimming over your backside. “So if I have a problem, you could fix it for me?”

“Maybe.” He offers. “Do you? Have a problem?”

“Maybe.” You smile, tilting your head up, burrowing into the crook of his neck. “Nothing I can’t handle. I just worry that someday someone is going to come looking for me.”

“If it does become something that you can’t handle, if someone comes looking, you tell me.”

“If I can find you-”

“Call me. If you need me I’ll be here.”

“Good to know.” Kissing his neck, you bring your legs up over his side, pussy grinding against his hip bone. “I like it when you stay the night.”

“Me too.” His hand slides down your back, cupping a butt cheek, pulling you tighter to him, as you rock your hips into his side. “Can I tell you something?’

“Of course.” You murmur, breathing in the scent of him, cheap cologne and faint shampoo.

“It might freak you out.” He warns.

“I can handle it.”

“I watched a man die last week. I should have stopped it from happening, I tried but I…I couldn’t.” You feel him tense up. “And that’s not even close to the worst of it.”

Maybe he’s a mobster or an enforcer…or maybe you’ve watched too many lifetime movies and there’s a more logical explanation.

You’re quiet for a moment, stroking the coarse hair of his chest, trying to decide if you want to reciprocate his confession. It would feel so good just to tell someone, to open up. And before you know it you’re spilling your guts.

“I killed a guy. He was a terrible person and he deserved it. The world is a better place without him in it, but I think about it every day. Some days it sits in my stomach, this heavy, suffocating feeling.”

Sam’s hand cups the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair. “Is that why you’re here?”

“That’s part of it.”

“I can’t promise you much. My life is crazy and I won’t make commitments I can’t keep. But if you need me, if you ever find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of I’ll find a way to be here.”

“You’re a regular Prince Charming.” You joke and he chuckles. “Will you ride in on a white horse?”

“I do have a sword.” He gives your bottom a squeeze.

“Honestly though, thank you, Sam. It’s nice to have a… _person_. I haven’t had one of those in a long time.“

"Next time we do this…you wanna go somewhere? Get out of town and stay at a place with room service?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You hiss, as he reaches over to shut off the lamp on the side table.

“Good. It’s a date.”


End file.
